


Can anybody save me from myself?

by sleepy_cyclops



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, Insanity, Jason Dean dies by the bomb, Martha has MaDD, Murder, Non-Canonical Character Death, Shooting Guns, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_cyclops/pseuds/sleepy_cyclops
Summary: PRETTY OLDJD's slow spiral into insanity-TW: Suicide, murder, uhhh i kill some heathers(( not frequently updated !! ))
Relationships: Heather McNamara & Veronica Sawyer, Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer, Martha Dunnstock & Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 30
Kudos: 37





	1. Headcanons (to start)

**Author's Note:**

> title: nightmare by SIO cause

So before we jump in, some HC's:

\--

**Veronica:**

-She secretly wishes to take Chandler's place  
-'Good uwu girl who never thought of murder'? hell no slay those enemies  
-Is lowkey scared of a lot of things  
- _~ A n x i e t y ~_  
-Has filled up at least 2 diaries   
-Ditched Betty Fin back in the 7th grade, she regrets it to this day  
-Swears a lot  
-Actually really hates blue

**JD:**

-Separation anxiety and trust issues  
-PTSD (explosions trigger it, how his mother died)  
-Has a gun collection, mostly stolen from his father  
-Freckles!!!  
-Good at math, but only uses it for murder calculations  
-Failing almost every class   
-Calls his father 'son', his father calls him 'dad' (movie canon but I liked it)   
  


**The Heathers:**

-Chandler is lowkey abusive ('but that's canon1!1!!' hell yea it is)  
-Duke buys a bunch of red skirts, waiting for Chandler's downfall  
-McNamara is depressed and is diagnosed, but refuses to admit it  
-Duke and Chandler pick on her the most, thinking that she is the most vulnerable   
-Duke is super insecure about a lot of things but can show none of it  
-All valid hets  
-Chandler once snapped a mallet in half because McNamara wouldn't stop bugging her

**Martha:**

-Breaks her glasses pretty much every week  
-Probably owns more scrunchies than Heather Chandler herself  
-She has Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder (is this me self-inserting??? **hell yeah.** )  
-Introverted  
-Holds onto the toxic people in her life (she doesn't know how to let them go)  
-Is baby 

**Kurt and Ram:**

-H OMOpHoBIc   
-Only hobbies are picking on JD and catcalling  
-uh  
-they bitches

\--

Buckle up for updates, I will show no mercy. 


	2. They're coming, creeping from the corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he and himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Use of homophobic language, mentions of shootings

**Starting out with a pretty short chapter, they'll get longer as the fic progresses!**

\--

If Jason Dean had a dollar for every time he was called a fag, he'd have enough money to buy a Glock and shoot this fucking school up.

Wait. Gotta keep it cool. It's only his first day, and he's already getting some stares.

Well, that could just be because he's dressed like an emo and is walking around with a slushie. A raspberry one, at that matter, the ones that turn your tongue red and stays all day. It's not a great start to the year, but who knows if he'll even make it to the end.

Okay, that was a little dark. He didn't mean to _think_ like this. Obviously. 'Just a case of daddy issues' is what every woman over the age of 35 tells him. He's always snapped back at them, saying something along the lines of, "I bet your daddy's got some issues with you if you fucking act like this." or, "Do I look like I give a fuck?" It usually works.

Is this why no one talks to him? 

This has got to be why no one talks to him. 

Out of all of his previous schools, there's only been one other person who's talked to him. He couldn't exactly remember his name, something along the lines of Danny or Thomas. He had approached JD first, who just happened to be sitting alone at lunch with his walkman. They quickly became friends, but JD ended up getting dropped because, "you're acting like a fucking psychopath, dude!" JD had lashed out at him, spraining his wrist and giving him a black eye. Immediately after his dad found out, they skipped the state and JD had 'earned himself a beating'. He hadn't talked to anybody in school since. 

Continuing walking down the hallway, he shoved himself hard into two jocks who looked like trouble. He kept going, even when he heard them spin around and glare at him. After a few seconds, he felt someone tug on the back of his trenchcoat, whisper 'fag' into his ear, and throw him onto the ground. 

_Well, fuck you too, buddy._

He glanced upwards and almost groaned when he saw who was above him. Girls wearing three different colours with scrunchies. Queen Bees. 'Teen royalty'. He did recognize one of them, a girl dressed him yellow in the back. 

_The fucking Heathers._

"Ugh, do you mind, weirdo?" Heather Chandler shouted, elbowing Heather Duke in her side. The brunette flinched. "Heather, who's this kid anyway?"

JD sighed. Heather #2 had a knack for 'gathering dirt' (emphasis on quotes) on people. He's never interacted with the Heather's whatsoever, and yet she's already managed to form opinions, which everyone calls 'dirt'. 

"Well, he's in Heather's geography class-"

"-he sits behind me-" McNamara cut in. She stood towards the back, fiddling with her backpack straps. 

"-Shut up, Heather."

"Sorry, Heather."

"Yeah," Duke continued, clicking her tongue and glancing back at McNamara with side-eyes, "He's a newbie, total freak. I mean, wearing trenchcoats to school? What year are we in, '73?" 

The three girls laughed, as well as a few people around them. Most of them were pity laughs, all being too scared to even approach a Heather. That was exactly what kept them in power, what is giving them the ability to bully people without anyone telling them they're wrong. 

JD wasn't exactly going to be that person for other people, but mainly for himself. Queen Bee's are the easiest to take down, he thought. They'll always give you the same argument: "Did I ask?", or, "Good for you," or even, "Have it your way." Then they'll walk off like privileged white girls, like they're the queens of the world. 

Yeah, he wasn't having any of that. 

He stood up, standing a few inches taller than Heather #1. He faced her and mimicked her pose, crossing his arms across his chest and sticking his hip out. Duke chuckled, which earned her a kick to the shin. JD continued to mock her, bending his leg in the slightest and balancing it on his other foot. 

"Does this pose give you the right to be a fucking asshole?" 

Chandler fell silent. She didn't break character, but McNamara did. She stared at her feet, dropping her hands to her side, then to behind her back. Duke stepped back to join her but kept her expression rock solid.

"What did you just say, buttmunch?" Heather #1 shot at him. 

A whisper ran out along the crowd now forming around them. All the eyes on him only made JD want to take down the Heathers even more. 

"I'll repeat myself."

He then removed himself from that position and reached for Chandler's bag. The blonde tried to jerk away, but JD grabbed her by the backpack strap and pulled her towards him. Reaching for the zipper, he opened her bag and tore it off, removing her mallet from her main pocket. It was all done in one swift motion, Heather not even having the ability to stop him. So she screamed, looking in the direction of a teacher to see if they would do something. They did, but only after a few seconds of hesitation. The hall monitor, a preppy junior dressed in pink, ran over to him too. Both of them reached for the mallet, but JD stepped away from them. Looking Chander dead in the eye, he stated, "This isn't making you look very cool, y'know."

And just like that, he brought down the mallet, snapping it over his knee, breaking it in two. 

A gasp ran out across the hallway as he threw the two broken halves in front of her. The hall monitor ran away, her high ponytail swishing back in forth, clearly trying her hardest to get it to. Chandler stared down at her now-broken mallet, snarled, then turned to the other two girls. The three Queen Bees were gone before he could utter another word. Almost instantly, the crowd around them left, as if they were scared to be close to him. He almost didn't blame them. He'd rather be feared then bullied. 

However, there was one person that stayed.

Some brunette in blue, staring at him with awe. 

JD stared right back at her, ignoring the teacher on his left giving him a lecture. 


	3. And all I know is that I don't feel safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she and he

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, it's been a month or so, been working on school + future chapters!!  
> \--  
> Small TW

**Please excuse me for any grammar/spelling errors you may find, this chapter is currently being edited!**

**\--**

When Veronica Sawyer first walked into school not too long ago, she was a nerd. A nerd who hung out with other nerds who would just drag her down. 

At least, that's what she's been told. 

Martha Dunstock was her best friend. Emphasis on the _was,_ their friendship suddenly halted only a few minutes ago when Heather #1 got to her. _Specifically,_ because she liked the shampoo she used. Nope, not for anything else. She shot down everything Veronica was actually proud of and practically left her on no legs to stand on, but at least it was an upgrade.

But that's only what they tell her. She sneaks a glance over to Martha, who's staring at the emo who'd just kicked Heather's ass in an argument. 

Martha was different. She wasn't and 'innocent person', as one may describe her. She was just wired a little different. No, she wasn't insane, no she wasn't a sociopath, she just mainly was in her own head and viewed herself in this fabricated way. One of her glasses frames were cracked from when she fell on her driveway and her mother refused to fix it. A shitty parenting move, the two both ended up agreeing on, but there was nothing they could do about that. She liked hoodies - big hoodies. She would shove pencils and pen in her pockets, taking them out only when needed. "It's the little things," she would say. Veronica said she'd give it a try. She never did. 

Anyway, the emo who kicked Heather's little petty ass. He was fairly attractive, with freckles that were scattered across his face that gave him a babyish look. His eyes were practically soulless - easy to stare into (not that she was, of course). His backpack had an assortment of charms on them, mainly from bands she assumed he liked. Some of them she liked too. One that really stood out to her was _Big_ _Fun_. They had taken over the charts over the past week, their fame quickly dropping with the release of 'Teenage Suicide: Don't Do It'. She still liked them, though, staring at the boy for a little too long. 

His glance drifted over to meet hers, the two locking glances for more than a moment. It's not like she expected anything to happen between them. _Just a silly crush,_ she told herself. As she watched him get dragged away, she wondered how Heather would react to all of this. Maybe yell at her. Maybe yell at H. Duke. Maybe even vandalize a wall with her bright red lipstick.

Either way, somehow she'd always be held responsible. 

**\--**

"That dirty _bastard!"_

Veronica mentally handed herself a dollar. Here they were, the four of them, in the ladies restroom, listening to H. Chandler rant. She was pacing back and forth, her heels making tapping noises on the ground. Their backpacks were placed outside the door, the colours of each of them scaring anyone who got close away. H. McNamara was on smashing duty, occasionally handing H. Chandler a few textbooks to throw at the ground. So far, 4 had been thrown and 2 of the spines broke. H. Duke reapplied her makeup, adding on things every now and then like, "I know!" and, "Me too!" 

"That fucking _jerkoff!_ I'm going to _beat his ass_ in the middle of the _hallway_ tomorrow!" Heather made another lap before snatching another textbook out of McNamara's trembling arms. She had a stack of at least 5 other textbooks, all extremely heavy. Chandler hurled it at the ground, landing on its side right at Veronica's feet. Chandler groaned at the lack of damage but proceeded to pace more laps. 

"Who does he think he _is!?_ Some freshie?!"

"Actually, he's in one of my classes." Heather #3 piped up, scratching her ankle with her other foot. "He sits in front of me, I think." 

"Ew."

Duke shut her eyeshadow pallet with a _snap!_ "Maybe he's-"

"Shut up, Heather."

"Sorry, Heather." 

There was silence in the room for a moment, the steady rhythm of Heather's heels echoing throughout the room. They were plenty late to class, but Veronica had promised them that she'd write their names on her hall pass (spoiler alert: she wasn't). 

The door creaked open, followed by all four heads turning in the direction of the sound. In came Betty Finn, another one of Veronica's dumped friends. However, she was dropped a _while_ before Martha. _Years_ before Martha. 

The four watched as the blonde walked in and stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh. Sorry." She looked at her shoes, some expensive heels that must have taken weeks to save up for. "Should I go?"

 _"Please."_ Chandler growled, giving Betty one of her famous bitch faces. 

Betty's head quickly snapped up, her ponytail swishing behind her. "I'm sorry, again." She snuck a glance at Veronica, showing sympathy. Veronica stared at her right back, trying her best to display no emotion (although, it ended up looking more like a cross of a resting bitch face and a sleep-deprived face). Chandler watched Betty Finn exit the bathroom but didn't continue to pace after she left. Instead, she followed the girl out, throwing the door open and slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

Duke wasted no time rushing to follow her, trying to hard to follow Heather's exact movements. McNamara waited for the door to slam shut again before dropping the textbooks and taking in a breath. "God." she said, breathlessly, "Those are _heavy!_ "

"Yeah, I know." Veronica agreed, placing a hand on Heather's back. "I could have helped."

"No, you're fine," she assured. "You didn't have to do anything."

Veronica waited until Heather stood up straight again before removing her arm from her back. "Where did those two run off to?" Not like she cared. Actually, she couldn't care less. Those two Heathers were the mean ones. The stuck-up bitch and the try-hard. Arguably the worst type of people to hang out with. McNamara wasn't exactly perfect herself, either, but at least she didn't rush to follow them out. 

"Can't help that I didn't help." the brunette sighed. "Should we follow them?" 

Heather smiled. "Best we do. Poor Betty could get skinned alive if we don't try and help." She piled the textbooks back up, Veronica picking up the one's Chandler had thrown. "We can leave these by the door. Ms Flemming's room is right there, maybe she'll find them."

Veronica nodded and headed towards the door. Kicking the door open with her heels, she dropped her stack to the side the backpacks weren't and waiting for McNamara to place her's down, too. 

In a few short minutes, they were off, passing a few students on their way around. 

Time seemed to stop when she passed Freckles again. 

**\--**

**Yes, another short one, but we'll get there!  
**

**Updates will be more frequent from now on.**


	4. I feel the tapping on my shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he and her and her and her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being gone for almost a month! 
> 
> TW: Homophobic language

If you were to ask if Heather McNamara was sad, she would ask you if you meant now or all the time. She would always answer yes.

The last time she felt happiness was when she was playing crochet with the other three girls. Duke made her killer shot off a tree and they all laughed at her and bugged her about how to do it for a few minutes. She took their asking as a bragging opportunity, saying how she's been practising that shot for hours upon hours, then proceded to try and do it again. The moment was gone after that. 

Right now, she was following Heather Chandler down the hallway, skipping class in the process. She was going on about how she was going to 'kick that emo kid's ass' and 'strangle him until that little fag admits his mistake'. They've been walking for a few minutes now, not stopping to consider that maybe he was in class to try and avoid her. Maybe he was in class to actually learn some shit. 

"Heather?" Duke piped up. 

"What the fuck is it, Heather?" 

"I think Heather knows where he is."

"Oh does she?"

McNamara shook her head. "No. Sorry, Heather."

"It's 3rd period." came Veronica's voice. "Still no?"

For all McNamara knew, Veronica was on emo kid's side. She was practically drooling when he snapped Chandler's mallet earlier, how is this any different? The four of them are possibly planning a murder, why would she take their side?

"No," McNamara repeats. Might as well give it to her. 

"Dammit, Heather, you dumbass." Chandler freezes and stomps her heel on the ground. If they were cheap, the heel would have snapped right off. "Now we have to wait for another fifty minutes." 

"Yeah, Heather, nice going," Duke added. 

McNamara said nothing. This situation was extremely dumb as is, might as well not fuel the fire. 

Except not, because a door to their right opened, and out stepped emo kid himself. 

Chandler stared McNamara down. "That. Is. Your. History. Class."

"...so?"

"When I'm done with this _homo,"_ she drags out the word, giving the emo kid the side-eye. "I'll kick your little petty ass." 

**-**

**Shorter just to let y'all know I am not dead! Sorry!**


	5. I turn around in an alarming state

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he and them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I am so sorry. I am not dead.

JD is not dumb. He's far from it, actually. He has at least several ways he could blow up this school right now and get away with it. A few would end in his death, but you have to be prepared for anything.

So naturally, when he hears Chandler's voice, he sighs and spins around. "May I help you?"

"Yes, you _fucking_ can!" The girl crossed her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow that JD only guessed was to intimidate him. It sure wasn't working. "Would you like to explain yourself?"

He pretended to ponder it. "No." 

The girl in blue let out a snicker, which caused Chandler to slam her heel on the ground and stare at her for a minute. JD took this as his time to smile and wave at her, which she returned. Chandler seemed to notice this, so she turned back to JD only for him to stare at her with the same emotionless expression. 

"If you don't mind, I would like to go to the bathroom now." 

"Oh, I'm _sure_ you would like to." Chandler sneered, causing forced laughter from the others. 

"Yes, I would."

Chandler let out a laugh of her own and stepped closer to him, possibly trying to intimidate him once more. Safe to say that attempt failed as well, saying she was plenty shorter than him. JD bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. 

"Listen here, you dirty freshman. I don't know who you are or what you do, but I'll tell you one thing. You don't fucking mess with me. Not for a second."

JD couldn't hold it back anymore. He started to cackle like a maniac, stepping back from Chandler and into the classroom's window view. He could feel their eyes on him, but what could they do? They were driven speechless the first time he did something to Chandler, so maybe this one will knock them dead. He reached for his back pocket and pulled out his gun. A blank one, but it would be enough to intimidate her. 

He stopped laughing abruptly, grabbing her and the class's attention. He pointed the blank at her face and said in all seriousness,

"You can try all you want, your blind worshipers can turn away from you in a second if someone drove them away."

And then he shot. And ran. He didn't exactly know where, but all he remembers is running towards the stairwell and slipping the gun somewhere on the windowsill. 


	6. But am I loosing my mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he and dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to make up for the short chapter! Next update in early May!  
> (I also really like writing JD. He's not a nice character, sure, but he's a good one).

The police ended up getting called. I mean, duh. 

JD expected the blanks to do some damage. They usually do. Scratch that, they always do. But this time, nothing. Maybe some emotional scarring, but that’s it. 

Not to mention that he was caught. He left the gun behind and made sure an entire fucking class knew who he was. But they didn’t arrest him, or even expel him. He got suspended for a week. That’s it. 

Chandler mumbles what can only be an attempt at a sentence before she is cut off by her own tears. The other two Heathers and the blue girl look as if they’ve stopped breathing, staring at her as if she’s some kind of demon. JD smiles and bites his lip as he runs. He fucking got her. He’s gonna rub this in her fucking face any chance he gets. 

He stops on the next floor. There are a few kids who are peeking their heads out of their classrooms, but the teachers yank them back in. He’s safe, for now. 

It’s not every day you watch one of the queen bees at school almost get shot. Veronica watches Freckles run up the stairwell, the heels of his boots echoing as he runs. She’s frozen in place, watching as Chandler runs her hands across herself to make sure she wasn’t bleeding. Her crying slowed to hiccups as people from the classroom started pouring out. She took this as her time to run. 

Her first instinct was to follow Freckles. They’ve made eye contact enough for him to trust her, right? 

He seems like her only option right now anyway. McNamara started screaming at the top of her lungs and Duke is covering her ears with her hands. A crowd formed around the group, so she slipped out the back and up the stairs. 

Freckles didn’t get very far. He stood in the centre of the hallway, picking at his chipped nail polish and tapping his foot on the ground. He seemed content, despite what the fuck just happened. He’s almost acting like it’s normal. Like he just picks up a gun in his spare time and goes around blanking everyone in sight.

Something about the look of his expression before he shot might just prove her right. 

Freckles turns around at the sound of Veronica’s feet, dropping his hands to his pockets. He blushes a little, causing her to forget about the screaming crowd downstairs and how any second they could be interrupted and expelled. 

They don’t say anything. There isn’t much she can say. She could thank him, but that would just be fucked up on every level. But there’s a time and place for everything, so she just does. 

“That was cool.” It comes out breathless.

Freckles laughs. “I know.”

And just like that, the tension is gone. Plenty of people can agree on the ‘hating Chandler’ opinion, but not many can  _ agree.  _ This kid gets it. He seems to understand that, too. 

“She deserved that.”

His expression changes in some kind of way that she can’t point out. “I know.” 

Veronica chuckles and looks down to her feet, trying her best to wipe the smile off her face. She’s grinning like an idiot, her face hurting from how big she’s smiling. She can tell Freckles is staring at her, doing a much better job at holding back his smile. 

That’s another thing she picks up on about him. He doesn’t smile unless he has a good reason to. Chandler almost getting shot? Good enough reason. She saw him bite back his grin. Talking to some girl in the hallway he’s expressed interest in? Obviously, a smile is going to be held back.

She wants to see it, though. That’s not something she’s going to deny. 

The air suddenly shifts when the crowd dies down. Veronica stands up straight and tries her best to not shift her gaze. “Could you, by chance... give me your name?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment. “I like my name, though. But I’m flattered that you asked.” 

She thinks about it for a second. “Oh.” It clicks. “Ohhh.” 

“I’ll tell you it, though, but you have to promise not to take it.”

There’s this kind of tone to his voice. No matter what he’s saying, it always sounds like a threat. There are times where you can tell he puts in more effort to have some kind of emotion, but she has yet to hear him express more than 2. She hopes that something will change over time.

“Go ahead. I’ll tell you mine in return, if you, uh, won’t take it as well.” 

She’s just cursed with sounded awkward 24/7. This doesn’t exactly benefit her in this situation. 

_ Here  _ it is. Here’s the smile. “Name’s Jason. Jason Dean. JD. Pick a favourite.”

She sticks the ‘JD’ label over ‘Freckles’. She likes it. It fits. 

“Veronica.” She says after, adding a faint “Sawyer” afterwards. “I’m sure you’ve met the Heathers already.”

He clicks his tongue. “Oh yeah, I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.” 

The third emotion she’s heard him use. Sarcasm. It fits him more than the name.

“Bet she thinks so too.”

He opens his mouth to say more but is cut off by the sound of the announcement noise playing. JD’s name is called over the speakers, cutting them short. Veronica can only assume what happened: either Heather told, someone in the class told, or they found the gun. Maybe all three. 

“Oh. That’s me.” JD started making his way down the hallway, stopping just in front of Veronica. Veronica held her breath while he examined her for a minute before continuing towards the stairway. 

Safe to say, he got mixed reactions. 

—

“Hey, son,” JD says, stepping into his house way too early to be accepted as a school day. He drops his bag at the door and carefully removed his shoes, placing them in a pair next to his sneakers. 

“Hey, Dad, what’re you doing home so early?”

His dad is in the living room, lifting a few weights and watching his mother’s death on the TV. JD steers his eyes away from there and looks at him in the eyes. “I got temporary let go.”

His dad seems unbaffled. “Hope this doesn’t affect your money income.” 

JD sits himself down on the couch, covering his view of the TV with one of his hands. “No, son, don’t worry about me. It’s only a week.”

His dad drops the weighs and moves over to the exercise bike in one swift motion. “A week? What did you do?” 

The raven-haired propped his feet up on the coffee table and shut his eyes. “Blanked a girl who was deserving of a beating.”

“Now, now, dad, we never wish those kinds of things upon women.” 

_ “Hypocrite”  _ is the word he wants to spit at him, but he knows that’ll only get him in trouble. He swallows his urge and ends up just saying, “Not if she wishes it upon me first.”

His dad chuckled only to harden his expression right after. “How many saw?”

“Eh. Enough.”

His dad sighed. “Jason.”

“No, this benefits me.”

“Jason.”

“I’m tellin’ yah, I knocked her right off her throne. She’s done for! I helped the school. Someone had to do it.”

_ “Jason.” _

“This is what you do, right?! Just blow up shit that gets in your way. Countless have died, you’ve saved plenty!” 

JD can’t tell if this is sarcasm or not. He might be calling his dad out, but who’s to judge. He sat up and prepared to leave. “You wanted me to follow in your footsteps, right? Here’s where I officially sign up.”

His dad stops pedalling and stares right at him. “Well, then you can do just that. Just don’t be getting me in trouble.” 

JD scoffs and stands up. “Gotcha. I’ll be in my room.”

“Oh, I know.” He hears his dad call after him, clicking the TV off. 

JD stands on his toes as he walks up the stairs, being careful not to make any amount of noise that’ll upset his dad. He throws open the room to his door and clicks it shut, collapsing onto the chair at his desk. It’s rather clean, with his pens and pencils being separated by different mugs that he stole from the cabinet downstairs. Yesterday’s math homework is on his desk, only being half completed and probably all incorrect. It’s not like he isn’t smart. He could pass the class if he wants, but what does it matter? They’ll be moving in maybe 6 weeks anyway. 

He shoves the papers aside and opens up to his lined notebook that he does assortments of sketches in. Most of them are random objects that are scattered around his room, but sometimes he’ll choose a random student and draw them from memory. Kurt and Ram were the last to that her drew, only to scribble on them in red crayon to let out all the anger he has for them. 

Today he chose Veronica. Because right now, the thought of her is the only thing that’s making him forget that his dad is yelling at him. 


	7. I really think so

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> veronica sawyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh I'm terribly sorry if this doesn't fit expectations but here it is!
> 
> tw: murder, guns

_ Suspended,  _ he thinks,  _ how  _ can  _ I make this work?  _

He’s sitting upright in bed at 1am with a bunch of ripped up pieces of paper around him. He isn’t thinking. Not with Heather walking around free, not with his dad blasting the TV downstairs, not with him running his hands through his hair over and over. 

He’s sweating, too. Both of his blankets have been kicked to the floor. It’s not even that hot outside, he tells himself, but it doesn’t matter. 

Shock factor. Shock factor, shock factor, shock factor. He mumbles it to himself as he taps on his knuckles with his fingertips. 

He’s already kicked his socks off and dumped his pencils out on his bed. He’s already tried a few plans and wrote 3 letters to himself. All of which ends exactly the same. And it’s  _ boring. _

He’s hungry. But he can’t go downstairs. Not if he doesn’t want to get hurt. 

Maybe he’ll just write another list. Can never go wrong with that. Maybe he’ll get some sleep while he’s at it. 

-

JD wanted Heather dead. Which Heather, exactly? He doesn't quite know, but he wants her gone before he ends up moving. 

There's just one little setback to his idea of a plan: Veronica. 

Look, he hadn't  _ meant  _ to fall for her, that was obvious. He broke his own rule, the only rule frankly that he set for himself, and now he has to deal with it as he stands outside the school that morning. He can't go in, obviously. Suspended. He's a little shocked that he's not expelled, even he can admit that. It's around 11am, so naturally, no one's outside to tell someone that he's here. 

He’d come to the school the day before only for a few things. He had to think of a way to sneak into the locker room and steal Kurt’s jacket (which had ended up succeeding). He took a football for good measures and was gone just like that.

He was wearing that jacket today, the football stuffed in his backpack which he had temporarily removed the keychains from. His hair color passed enough for Kurt’s, right? 

It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he’s looking back. 

JD’s plan didn’t take too long to come up with. A few sketches and a bulleted list and he was practically good to go. He doodled Chandler in the margin, only to cross out her face a few times with a red marker. 

Said list is in his pocket. It’ll come in handy later. What matters now is that he moves. 

He takes out a black marker from his pocket and removes the cap with his teeth, keeping it in his mouth as he writes "BASTARD" in all capital letters on his palm. He hesitates writing something on the other- he doesn’t really  _ have _ to. 

So he doesn’t. Just doodles a smiley face and caps the marker. 

JD pauses for a moment and lets his eyes shift. He did sleep. Maybe only for a few hours the night before, but it wasn’t as bad last night. His hands are shaking as he drops the marker on the ground right after. It was his dad's, anyway. 

He thinks for a minute about what period everyone's in. He knows Chandler has 4th-period Algebra, which luckily for him is on the first floor. Veronica is upstairs. Kurt, he hopes, is in his tutoring lessons. 

He sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets. It doesn’t matter right now. He’s gotta follow his list. 

He’s at the side of the school right after and crouches just under the window. There aren't too many options for him that have a better ending, so this'll have to do. 

Oh, he also has a backup plan. He's almost excited for this one to fail so he can use it. 

He slings his backpack from off his shoulders and shoves something inside his pocket, dumping the football from out of it. He puts up his hood and lifts up his hand with the writing on it. He hits it and lets it linger. 

He almost laughs at the screams it produces. 

_ There isn’t time for that,  _ JD thinks, lifting his bag back up and bolting back in the direction he came. 

He  _ should  _ have this next step completed in a couple of seconds. 

He throws on a pair of gloves and scans the lockers. He has a few of the Heather’s memorized. 

Cocking his gun, he pulls a mask over his mouth and throws Chandler’s locker open, dumping out a few of the contents and ripping all her photos. He drags his hand down the inside of the door, leaving a smudged “BASTARD” that is decently legible. 

A photo of her and Veronica drops. He stares at it for a little, whipping his hand a little on the jacket. Maybe he’ll pocket this one. For good luck, of course.

Now, if he’s thought about this correctly, her class should be exiting and running towards the main entrance now. 

And of course, he did. It doesn’t take so much thinking to be right about that. They won’t be making it outside, either, if he did this right. He’s thinking about taking a detour, though. A much-needed detour, judging by the fact that he’s even considering it. 

He’s gotta go back outside anyways to clean the window. 

Loe and behold the students come piling out. They clog the hallway, freezing when they see ‘Kurt” standing in their way, Chandler’s locker trashed. 

They aren’t who he needs. He hopes he runs fast. 

Chandler is the last one out, marching towards the group. She’s trying to be the bigger person, he thinks, that  _ bastard _ . He wants to yell at her. Yell at her a lot. Tell her how her life isn’t going to be fucking handed to her and how she can’t just go around like this anymore. A stupid yet necessary step. He doesn’t do it. 

“Excuse me, but what the  _ fuck _ is going o-”

_ BANG _

The front doors are closed before anyone can say anything.

JD grabs a few lacrosse sticks he left by the entrance and used them to trap everyone inside. Then he  _ runs,  _ he fucking  _ runs.  _ Back over to the side to wipe down the window fast, to drop the gun, then to book it around the back to the back entrance. 

Where’s Veronica’s locker again? 

“Heh.” is all that comes out when he gets away. High school students are fucking stupid. 

By now the hallways are dead silent except for a select few on the third floor, everyone being downstairs to check on a hopefully dead Heather Chandler. JD laughs to himself, then grabs a pencil from off the ground. 

He scans for Veronica’s locker quickly, hoping that she’s still upstairs. Hers is 201, right?

Whatever. He chooses on a limb and scrapes a message into it.  _ Meet me in the field.  _ It’s written in French, he knows that she can understand it. Then he runs back, throwing Kurt’s jacket God knows where. The police’ll find it. Who the fuck cares. 

Then he sits. Under a tree somewhere would be his best bet, but no one’s outside right about now. They probably won’t be for a while. He knows that he succeeds when he hears the faint police sirens and the teachers calling Kurt’s name. 

It just all went by so  _ fast.  _ Too fast, he thinks, judging how its only been around 15 minutes and he’s already done. Much better than anyone else could ever do, especially his dad. He wouldn’t dare. Maybe he’ll see the news today.

Maybe it’s a big enough shock factor. But hat would his dad know. His mom is fucking dead anyway. 

Someone’s trying to open up the door to the stairwell. He doesn’t have to look up to know.

“Hey,” comes a voice. It’s shaking a little. “What the fuck?”

Veronica Sawyer, the person he thinks would most appreciate this, is standing there in total shock looking like she’s about to hit him. 

“She’s not… dead, is she?” 

JD tries to slow his breathing from the run and turns to look at her. “She shouldn’t be.”

“What?!”

He lets out a breathless laugh and points to the spot next to him. Veronica doesn’t move. Her shoes are planted directly into the ground, her gaze looking more fearful after his invitation. JD raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side a little.

Veronica sighs and sits down. Not really  _ next  _ to him, more just… near him. 

“I left Martha alone to come here.” she finally says.

“Your point?” comes his reply. “You’re a massive dick to her, anyway.” 

Veronica shifts in her position and smoothes her skirt over her legs. “Yeah, well, uh… you kind of made it worse?”

“Is that a question or a statement?” 

She audibly breathes out. “I don’t know.” Her mouth opens to say more but she doesn’t. JD can hear her take in another breath and hold it, grabbing the ends of her skirt with shaking fingers. He can see that she’s holding back tears, yet she still has more to say apparently.

“What gave you the impression that I wished she were dead?” 

It comes out shakey, almost being drowned out by the sirens from the front of the school. JD hears enough. 

“Oh, come on! The way you act towards her, the grudges you hold, the way she treats  _ you-”  _

“ _ What gave you the impression that I wished she were dead? _ ”

JD says whats the beginning of a syllable but cuts himself off. Why doesn’t she get it? What’s not to get? He hopes that he doesn’t have to group her in with everyone else. 

She lets out some sort of chuckle. “No answer, huh?”

Ah. “Hm.” 

Veronica leans forward hoping that she’d get more, but she doesn’t. She seems to know that he has more to say, but he saves it. Maybe for another plan that he probably has. No, that he  _ definitely  _ has.

What does Veronica know?

Not a lot, apparently, because her grip tightens and her expression changes when he stands up to leave. He kicks his shoes off before he goes, picking them up and throwing then at a few windows. He takes the gloves off and drops them into her lap.

“Can you burn those for me?”

She cracks a worried smile. “Yeah, okay.” 

And then he leaves. He goes through the woods to get home, not wanting to end of being a suspect by passing through the main way. 

He does look back. Veronica is still sitting there, this time hugging her knees and burying her face in her legs. He doesn’t get it. 

-

“So. Dad. Did you do this?”

JD’s father is sitting in the living room when he gets home, the news turned on and a bowl of pretzels next to him. He stands at the living room entrance and drops his bag as his dad laughs. “Judging by your undershirt and lack of shoes, I’m guessing I’m right.” 

JD hesitates before forcing out a laugh. “Yeah. Mhm. That was me.” 

He sits down next to the bowl of pretzels and takes one. He almost chokes on it when his dad says, “I wonder what your mother would think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. there goes chandler


End file.
